


It only has four ingredients, it can't be that difficult...can it?

by your_dragon_just_shot_at_me



Series: Heart of - Detective Pikachu [3]
Category: POKEMON Detective Pikachu (2019), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Good Boyfriend, Romantic Fluff, Sweet, romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_dragon_just_shot_at_me/pseuds/your_dragon_just_shot_at_me
Summary: As life gets hectic with Tim working full time and Alison back to work full time trying to dismantle Team's as they descend on Ryme to make it their own, things with their relationship stall and Tim worries. They keep missing each other and dates have fallen by the wayside. So, when Alison loses her case through no fault of her own, Tim tries to find something to cheer her up. Assuming he can figure it out.
Relationships: Harry Goodman & Tim Goodman & Pikachu, Tim Goodman/Original Character(s)
Series: Heart of - Detective Pikachu [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505594
Kudos: 5





	It only has four ingredients, it can't be that difficult...can it?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a sweet one shot / short I thought of and it makes me squee. Set post Heart of Gold, my first Detective Pikachu fic and kind of inspired by my fictober shorts.   
> Only warning is strong language used briefly.

Three days. That was the exact amount of time for their fridge to go from full of food all carefully crafted, edible and delicious and warming to derelict with only scraps and condiments. The sink was the opposite, full with a foul stench. His dad claimed they were too busy and this was why he insisted on ordering out. Tim was no better. He could have washed the plates and silverware right after they’d used them. He should have. But he’d taken the cue from his dad and was working more than he should, even going so far as to cancel a date in favor of a stakeout. Alison understood. She even fell asleep in the car with him, jarred awake when his dad and Pikachu flew out of no where landing on the hood of the car. Lazily she reached across and turned the car on with a veiled threat relating to Harry being taken to the hospital.  


Suddenly, after that hospital trip, which Tim knew very well was not the first and definitely not the last, Harry insisted Tim took more time off. He thought it was a trick. Get Tim to return to his maid duties, duties that were sorely needed but rarely discussed. And with Alison back at work full time and in the field she wasn’t around to pick up their slack. 

Not that Tim expected her to. That wasn’t her job. She wasn’t their maid or in house chef and even if she complained she was that and more. 

Tim had been trying to make a point of stopping by the precinct even if it was just to say hi. Drop off a coffee. Guilt ate at him with how little he’d seen her as their workloads each ramped up. More so when he did stop by and she was out or in interrogation or wherever. Recently he felt like he only caught small glimpses of her from across the precinct floor growing more and more weary. 

This was just another day of that. Tim had been waiting at her desk, fresh coffee cup from the bistro down the street, staring at Cu’s picture. He seemed to stare right into Tim’s soul even from beyond the grave, unsettling Tim even more. 

Yoshida’s voice cut through the natural din of the precinct floor. More making a show than anything, arguing with Alison in big flourishes as case files and boxes of evidence were hauled out along with a lumbering Pangoro. Alison wasn’t acting, though. She was livid, near tears as the Pangoro was led down the back stairs to the garage, his entourage of military officers and their partners armed to the teeth. 

“We have jurisdiction! Where...why....Lieutenant!” 

Yoshida was trying to calm her, speaking quietly with soothing motions and gestures while gracefully dodging Alison’s outbursts. None of which worked. Alison stormed off without even a passing glance his way. 

“Tim?” Yoshida stopped at her desk. He’d been spacing out still staring at where she’d been before her final outburst, clutching Cu’s picture. “Did you need to speak with Angeles?” 

Jolting back to present Tim set the picture back in it’s place. “No. Just dropped in to say hi and see if Alison needed anything.” 

“I’ll tell her you stopped by. She’s,” a loud crash interrupted Yoshida and the rest of the floor. He could guess what it was. 

Tim got the hint. Now wasn’t a good time. 

* * *

  
“Joe, you gotta help me.” The pile of dishes was daunting, and disgusting and he vowed not to let it get that bad again no matter how much sleep he lost, but apparently none of that was as daunting as a simple recipe. One he’d seen Alison make countless times already. She could make it in her sleep. One that took her all of five minutes to make. Four of it’s ingredients were eluding Tim out of spite. He was sure of it. 

“Mr. Goodman? What can I get for ya?” The deli counter was not where he could get any of the ingredients. Joe had gotten to know Tim pretty well. Tim’s specialty was sandwiches. Nothing fancy. Bread, meat, cheese and maybe a condiment. But he was also the only employee Tim recognized. He’d look like an idiot no matter what but going to someone that knew Alison was better than trying to futilely explain to a complete stranger. 

“You have to help me. You know Alison...I mean Angel.” 

“Sure do. She takes care of your pop real good.” 

“She makes this soup,” he’d found the one thing he recognized from the soup and held it up. Green onions. Joe kindly turned a smile up, also shrugging. “Come on. She’s had a really shitty day. It’s, like, four ingredients and we are out of all of them!” 

Joe rubbed the weariness from his eyes. He was honestly the most imposing deli attendant he’d ever met. Tim was sure he was only nice to him because Tim and Alison were always together. “Well, she’s from Kanto region.” He thought before calling out, “Rachel!” 

“Yeah, Joe?” A mousy girl, barely old enough to work in the store, lugged a heavy box of cans from the back. 

“Goodman here needs some help. Angel. She makes a soup...? What soups do they got in Kanto?” 

“They eat a lot of soup.” Tim held up the green onions again. “Everything has green onions in it.” 

“It’s not a lot of ingredients. It’s like stock and some paste stuff and,” she held up a hand. 

“Miso?” One day he would learn to read Kanto. Tim shrugged. Rachel unloaded the box on Joe’s counter and trailed up and down the aisles grabbing items and showing them to Tim. No noodles. He took some mushrooms for a minute before realizing that wasn’t right. “She make it from nothing?” 

“Yes? She makes everything from scratch.” 

“It will taste different with this. I think even you can read the instructions and figure it out.” 

That...was debatable. 

* * *

  
_You NEED to stop by our place._

She didn’t need to do shit. All she wanted to do was crawl under her mound of blankets and hibernate all weekend with Emmy. Maybe she’d come out long enough to eat and use the bathroom. She hated the idea of Tim being around her in such an extremely shitty mood. 

Opening the door didn’t yield any immediate dangers. “This place isn’t burning down so unless I come in and you’re all being held against your will you can all f-“ Tim, Harry and Pikachu all stopped the moment she stepped out of the hallway. One of those awkward, they had probably been just talking about her moments. Stealing a look at the kitchen was also a mistake. Pots piled in the sink, a few bowls too and fresh take out containers that already had caused the apartment to reek of burnt meat and wood. “I’m not really in the mood...” 

Tim didn’t dishevel easily yet she could tell he was absolutely spent as he slid a steaming bowl of soup across the counter. Jagged chunks of tofu floated grimly among large strips of nori obscuring most of the broth. Slices of green onion mixed with some white slices, a little large. 

“Third time’s the charm.” Harry chuckled. Burnt pot looked like it won round one. “Second time the tofu melted.”

“It didn’t mel-You didn’t even help!” 

“He had to run back to the market.” 

“It’s perfect.” Tears welled without warning. 

“Taste it,” Harry shook his head behind Tim’s back. 

“How’s your case?” 

Tim’s soup was salty and lacked the same flavor but was so warm and the tofu soft as it slipped down her throat. “Really crappy.” Her chest heaved as she thought back in the day, then remembered the cold coffee sitting on her desk. He’d been there to see her and she didn’t even know it. “I-I thought you had a case?” Pikachu climbed up her leg to sit in her lap while Emmy sat on the counter. Tim ladling out a smaller bowl for her.

He and Harry had different opinions on the answer, simultaneously answering, “I do,” and, “He doesn’t.” 

“I took that case this morning.” 

“I distinctly remember giving you the weekend off.” 

“You have two other cases.” 

“I,” Harry wheeled Pikachu from Alison’s lap then gracefully stumbled over his words especially as Tim shook his head vehemently at him, “will get you some beer-some ice cream and be off.” Setting off down the hall with his irate partner who wanted nothing more than to keep snuggling Alison, Harry left them in a amicable silence. Seconds later, Tim’s phone buzzed with a text.

_Harry: Don’t make the same mistakes I did._

He felt her watching just from the corner of her eye, sneaking in a glance here and there as she slurped her soup. “It doesn’t taste like yours,” Tim added nervously. 

“It’s perfect,” she repeated.


End file.
